Thank you for waitings and sorrys to:Everyone. Sorry I just switched computers and I need to get my list from the other one. hehe...he...he T.T SORRY!!! PLEASE REVIEW WITH YOUR NAME ANYWAY. I'll have the list by my next posting of this story.

Sam wondered annoyedly how a man can be so gentle when he was tired and full of apples, then grumpy the next day. Really, she wondered why she even thought he would change over night anyway. Its not like this was all being smacked down on some magical typewriter or something (well, technically this isn't a typewriter so... X).

Sam slowly stood from the bed as Aragon cursed a bed-side table for jumping infront of HIS royal toe. Sam gave a small laugh. Aragon turned and glared at her. She just smirked and pulled on one of her tunics and leggings. If Aragon had tried to push her into a dress like the first one he had squeezed her into, there would have been h*ll to pay.

She could imagine his face morphing into one of horror as she shouted and threw things, eventually leading to the dress being literally ripped off. Oh yes...That would have been very interesting indeed. Sam looked over at Aragon covertly. She almost laughed again. He was tilting his head infront of one of the few mirrors in his(their) room, trying to perfectly position his crown of kinglyness.

She just grabbed her little circlet from the night-stand and dropped it on her head. Aragon gave a huff as he once again failed to find the perfect angle that would display his royal headgear. It vaguely reminded Sam of a first grader trying to string beads into a necklace. It didn't seem that hard to the obsever, but to the shaky handed participant, it was a challenge that ordered itself be done.

At the beginning, she had wondered why it had been so important that his crown be placed perfectly upon his head. As time went by, she understood that the crown itself was a physical reminder of who was in power. The reason Aragon was the king was not because of his family's blood line. It was actually because he was the most powerful in his realm.

He tried not to bear his dragon fangs too often at his subjects when he expected submission. He did rub his amulet between his fingers when he was irratated or, God forbid, nervous about something tho. He was actually a very good king when he wasn't surrounded by (boring) people of the court. Heck! Even his jester was serious and creepily morbid.

The villages edging the castle were so different from the cold palace. Children ran in the streets happily. Mothers hung up their laundry while talking to their neighbor. Husbands kissed their wives and openly showered them with affection. She had seen him sneek from the castle and cover his own appearance with that of soemone else's. Sometimes he was a hunched old woman using a bedsheet and a pillow for his supposed "hunched" back. Sometimes a cap and set of peasant clothes to dress as a traveling youth.

He monitored his kingdom wonderfully. But as always, there was someone that wasn't happy with his lot in life. Who do you blame when your life goes into the out-house hole? Why, the person in charge ofcourse! He needed to stay in control. If that meant positioning a crown for forty-five minutes every morning, then Sam was oddly okay with that.

She broke from her thoughts as Aragon gave another sigh. He placed the crown down on the table next to him as he rubbed his temples. Sam rose from the bed and picked up the crown. Aragon looked at her, raising an eyebrow. She just gave him a small, kind smile and got on her tip toes trying to place the crown on his head.

Aragon stooped a little and allowed her to position his golden symbol of power atop his head. "Perfect," she whispered as he straightened back to full height. Aragon looked at his appearance in the mirror. He smiled, "Well done Wife." She smiled back.

"I wish you would do that more often." Sam said. "What? Waste nearly an hour fumbling about with my crown like a complete imbecile?" he asked, not completely sure that this wasn't the beginning of a trap. Sam laughed. "No. Although I do love to watch you suffer." "If you didn't, I think we would be doing something that involved less decipherable dialogue." "Aren't you the hilariuos one today DEAR." "I am described as having a very dry sense of humor. You know how I hate to make people into liars." "I was talking about your smile you dolt." "..."

"Oh! Now you have nothing to say. You were talking about (air quote)doing the do(un-air quote) a few seconds ago, but when I say your smile is sexy, you clam up. You, my dearest husband, are one gooey lump of Rainbow RiceCrispy Treat(I don't own Rice Crispy Treats...Rainbow, lumpy, or otherwise)." "Wife. Must you speak in a manner which I do not comprehend?" "Sorry." "..."

"Wait a moment. You think my smile is attractive? How do you resist me, Wife? Must you retain your will of iron?" "Easy there, fuzzy little man peach." "Did you just call me a piece of produce?"

"...Maybe"